


Eternal Bruise

by TheDruidIsIn



Series: Kill For You [2]
Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), A Nightmare on Elm Street - All Media Types, Horror Fandom, Slasher Fandom - Fandom
Genre: A Nightmare On Elm Street - Freeform, F/M, Immortality, Resurrection, Summoning, THERE BE FEELS HERE, Witchcraft, Witches, freddy krueger is one horny fucker, functional immortality, horror fandom - Freeform, mc is like part oc part reader insert part self insert, slasher fandom, there be smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23948752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDruidIsIn/pseuds/TheDruidIsIn
Summary: In which the MC is a long-lost friend and love interest of Freddy, and she does something no one else would dare to do: she willingly summons him.
Relationships: Freddy Krueger/Original Female Character(s), Freddy Krueger/Reader, Freddy Krueger/You
Series: Kill For You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693654
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> *Written in the same style as Ecstasy and Darkness Drips.
> 
> *Mentions of canon violence, mentions of major character death (Freddy).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summoning Freddy was not something most people would feel safe doing. She wasn't most people.

I.

Most people would probably find summoning him a bad idea, but I still remembered him from before everything. I remembered him from before he met Loretta or killed off the children of our old classmates. I remembered him from the days when we made mud pies by the creek, caught fireflies in June, laid under the trees to stare at the clouds or the stars. I remembered the quiet, sweet boy he used to be before all their cruelty hardened him. I remember the single tear he refused to shed when my family’s car pulled out of our driveway on the last day of us moving out. I remember hearing the news about the murders, and as much as I abhorred the death of a child, a wounded part of me thought darkly that the townspeople brought it upon themselves. My ankle, clavicle, and ribs still throbbed with the memory of being broken when one of the grieving parents, at the time a child our age, pushed me, the unmistakably witchy child of a family of witches and an oddity that couldn’t be hidden in suburbia, and Freddy, “the bastard with a hundred fathers”, down the steps. The sight of his six-year-old self looking over me in frantic panic, his fingers pressed to the cut on my forehead, still loomed in my mind. 

Was he evil? Was the boy who stopped my head wound from bleeding, who helped me reset my broken nose, who helped me limp home when the bullies broke my bones, evil? I had no idea if at some point his righteous rage twisted into something more fowl, only that it stung when I would be slapped in the face at school, when we came home with bloody noses and busted lips and bruises that we hid as rough play because our shame and our fear were stronger than our need to be truthful. I knew if my parents found out that they’d move away, and he’d bear the brunt of it all alone. It was impossible to hide the broken bones from that fateful day, though, and moving away from my only friend had nearly killed me. Who knew what it had done to him? 

Perhaps that’s why he chose life with a woman he didn’t love and who had few prospects herself. Perhaps loneliness and a life without the one person he connected with in his childhood meant he picked a person he could tolerate, someone who had never been overtly cruel to us, but who had never helped, either. I had no idea what had happened to her, but I’d heard of what happened to him. Not in time to go back while he was still alive, though. News didn’t reach me until the gruesome end years later, after all of the killings, after he became a local urban legend of our old town. 

It took me ages to find his grave in that abandoned salvage yard after I travelled back to Ohio and rented an apartment, settling in a few towns over to avoid the old crowd and driving down late at night or early in the morning. I made a modest living, enough to get by without struggling but not enough to be truly well-off. I worked from home doing a variety of things over the internet from online ESL teaching to transcribing and editing, so I had little concern for the hours I visited. There was no tombstone, and I was always the only one, taking flowers and sitting reading to him from both poetry and prose, or talking quietly about my life or things he might find interesting. He’d always been into sci-fi, stones, and plants, so my knowledge in those areas was immensely helpful. Sometimes I played my flute for him, the melancholy notes carried off by the wind. I took meals there often, reviewing my student’s homework with little distraction in the seclusion and near-quiet. Once, I even fell asleep there. I even thought for a second that I felt scarred fingers on my face then, stroking my cheek tenderly like someone waking up to a lover, but when I opened my eyes I found no one. 

In the early hours just before dawn, before the sun came up and in that time between day and night, I unfolded an extra-large quilt next to the freshly dug-up grave, spreading it out and placing a few large, unlit candles, some white and some black, onto it. I set them down into fire safe containers before I lit them, then took out a few stones (halite, hematite, labradorite, lapis lazuli, obsidian, onyx, sunstone), a few flowers (chrysanthemums, bay, forget-me-not, laurel, marigolds, mugwort, myrrh), a friendship bracelet he’d made and given to me (I’d given him one in return), a picture of us together as kids, carved bone chips, a few crow feathers, two cat whiskers, some pomegranate seeds, cowrie shells, the Death tarot card, and a stopped pocket watch from my bag, arranging it all a good ways away from where his excavated bones lay. My breaths clouded around me in the cool air. The spell I’d written fell from my lips softer than a whisper. I carefully anointed the skull of my oldest friend with a bit of ash, aligned his skeleton appropriately, then retreated to the quilt, head bowed and hands outstretched. I stretched out my spiritual senses, my eyes closed, until I could get a sense of the bones. There was something still there, some essence of him trapped in them. I prodded at that essence, gently coaxing it. I grasped onto it with my spirit-self, drawing in all the tendrils of like energy to the shattered mess in the bones. It took longer than I thought it would to knit the fragments of soul back together, then to guide the repaired whole into the bones and have it inhabit them. 

Somewhere in front of me, I heard muttered cursing, then a soft gasp, then silence. Slowly, I gave the area in front of me a visual sweep, my legs tucked neatly against myself. The sight of a horrifically burned man greeted me, a ratty red and green striped sweater hanging off of his thin frame, with dark pants, a brown hat, and his infamous glove. Like Voldemort in the second Harry Potter film, it was clear that he wasn’t quite corporeal. I, Elphaba Maisy Clearwater, had summoned the essence of Frederick Charles Krueger’s spirit— _Freddy Krueger’s_ spirit. 

I smiled serenely, then stood slowly, dusting off my long skirt. “Hello, Fox.”

His entire body jerked when I uttered the old nickname I had for him, Fox, because we named each other after our favorite flowers. Mine was always foxglove, and his was belladonna. That’s why he called me Bell all those years ago starting when we were eight, even though my name wasn’t anything remotely resembling Isabelle. At the time I think he thought it was a clever _Beauty and the Beast_ reference, though I’m not certain of that. With everyone else, he went by shortenings like Freddy or Fred in the past, and I went by Elle and Fae. 

His lips parted. When he spoke, his words emerged in a growl, my nickname expelled almost as a question. “...Bell?”

I nodded, taking a step closer to him. “Or Elle or Fae, if you like. I prefer Elle now, though.”

“Elle,” he repeated, voice gravelly. He bared his teeth, all of which appeared yellow. 

I opened my arms wide, still using the childhood nickname when I addressed him. “Really, Fox, not even a hug for your old friend?”

“You’re not afraid of me?” He sneered, brandishing his gloved hand. “You should be. It would be so easy for me to kill you, and no one would hear you scream.”

I shook my head, still smiling softly. “You’re the only one who never hurt me. Don’t you remember what _they_ did to us, Fox?” 

“That doesn’t matter. You should fear me,” he snarled, his desperation evident to me. His knives rustled as his hand flexed in his glove. 

I shrugged indelicately, persisting. “They broke my bones, Fox. You’re the one who carried me home when they did, remember?”

He scowled, a dark look coming over him. “I remember. That’s why I made them pay. I made them all pay.”

I nodded. “I know, Fox.” I patted the blanket next to me. “Sit with me?” 

Confusion flickered across his features. He was used to being feared, not being welcomed. “You’re really not afraid?”

I closed the remaining distance between us, my eyes not leaving his as I grabbed his hand and eased his glove off, letting it flutter to the ground. “Not one bit. I’m probably the only person who’s safe with you, and I want to take advantage of that.”

A lascivious grin twitched into place. “Oh? Really?”

I thought my eyes would plop onto the springy grass with how hard I rolled them. I lightly whacked at his chest. “When did you become such a pervert? I might be the only person who can touch you and be touched by you right now, but you know I didn’t mean it that way and you know it.”

Suddenly his hands gripped my forearms and he pulled me close, dipping his head so our noses brushed. “Do I, Elle? I seem to recall that you kissed me before you left all those years ago.”

My eyes went to his lips. “I did. I knew we had feelings for each other and I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Well here I am,” he breathed, “in the flesh, so to speak.”

I trailed my eyes over his scarred face. I had to know. “Why did you kill Lorie?”

He flinched like I’d slapped him and let me go, turning his back on me. He told me, throat full of emotion, “Because she was going to tell them I was the Springwood Slasher. Because I looked at her and got so angry that she wasn’t you. Because I knew when I looked in her eyes that she’d betray me, but you and I did everything together, Elle. We suffered together. We bled together. You never would have turned on me.”

I slowly wrapped my arms around him, laying my head against the back of his shoulder. His sweater really was grimy and tattered, but I knew that no actual dirt would rub off on me. “We did,” I agreed. “So you never really loved her, then.”

He swiveled in my arms so that my cheek pressed into his clavicle. “No.” One of his gnarled hands rose to caress my cheek. “I settled for her so I wouldn’t die alone. No one else was willing to be with me. They all saw me, the town bastard, the freak show, as a monster _before_ I got my vengeance.”

I placed my hand on his ruined cheek, eyelids sliding closed momentarily. Unbidden, my tongue discarded his childhood nickname for his common one. “I’m sorry that my family took me away from here, Freddy, away from _you_. I didn’t want to leave you, but they were worried about how far the other kids would go. Especially after the day with the broken bones and the stairs.”

I opened my eyes to find him staring down at me intensely, his face close to mine again. “What about now, Elle? How long will this little reunion last?”

I caressed my fingers along his cheekbone. He seemed to lean into the touch, like a cat being stroked. “It can be permanent, if you’re willing to live with me.” I worried my lip a bit, ready to catch him up on a few details. “I summoned you. You probably remember that I’m a witch, but now I keep myself young and my life prolonged indefinitely with the blood of men.”

He sneered at me. “Doll, I’m already dead.”

I cradled his face by his jaw with one hand. “You don’t have to stay that way. I have a spell that will balance the life force between us. As long as I’m alive, you would be too.” 

He straightened up a bit. “And why would you want to do that?”

I stood on my tiptoes to press my forehead to his, our fronts touching. “Because then we can be together forever. Because your revenge is done, and I know you only killed those kids to get back at our tormentors and not to—not to do what some people think you did. I know you didn’t abuse them that way. I spoke to their spirits.” I dropped a tentative kiss on his chin, not adding that I was upset that he’d killed the children and not their parents. “Don’t you still want to be with me, Fox?”

He was breathing harshly, jagged breaths punctuating the still air. His face screwed up with displeasure. “Do I have to look like this?” 

“Not if you don’t want to. Spirits can look however they’d like. You could make yourself look like before. Once I balance our life force, I think you’d stay in that state.” 

He stroked my hair. “And what if I don’t stay that way?”

I maneuvered so that my lips melted into his. He made a strangled sound in his throat, soon followed by another when I pulled away. “Then you just won't.”

He gave me a heavy-lidded stare. I backed slowly away from him until I reached the quilt, careful to put distance between myself and the items I’d laid out earlier. Looking directly at him, I brought my hands up to slowly start unbuttoning my blouse. His eyes followed their path without prompting. At the last button, I let the garment slide to the ground, exposing my naked chest to him. I pushed my skirt off my hips, the cascade of fabric puddling around my ankles. I could feel myself pulsing in reaction to seeing his increasingly lust-filled eyes trail down from my breasts to the rest of my body, his gaze burning when he saw that I hadn’t worn underwear. 

I carefully reclined on my side, beckoning for him to come to me. He did so, stalking over, half-uncertain and half-aroused. He dropped to his knees next to me, a hand immediately fondling my breast. I laughed. “Eager, Fox?”

He somehow managed to both scowl and leer at me. “What do you think? I haven’t been able to fuck anyone since Loretta had Katherine. She never wanted it after the pregnancy.”

I batted his hand away, much to his chagrin, and plucked at that god-awful sweater of his. “You won’t be fucking anyone if you’re wearing _that_ hideous waste of yarn.”

In response to my statement, he growled then immediately discarded the hat and sweater, revealing more ruined flesh. His belt, shoes, socks, and pants came next, then finally his boxers. As he leaned in to kiss me, I entwined our fingers. “Fox….hold my hand for a moment, and think back to what you were like before they…did what they did.” 

He exhaled harshly but complied. When it was clear he had the image in his mind, I added more instructions. “Now inhabit that memory, Fox. Think about how your clothes felt on your body, what your own skin felt like under your fingers.” 

He moaned at the last instruction, no doubt taking it somewhere lewd, but if it helped, it didn’t matter what memories he dredged up to find that feeling. It wasn’t long before he started changing, first his hands and face, then other parts: his skin smoothed out and softened, his eyes lost some of the milky white and turned bluer, hair grew in first slowly then rapidly, thick, blonde, and wavy. Pubes of the same color sprouted above his cock, which looked larger and fuller recovered from its burned state. A few wisps of blonde curls sprouted on his chest, too. I couldn’t help but run my hand over the planes of his chest and stomach. He finally opened his eyes, his expression unreadable as he glanced down at himself. 

“It worked.” His disbelief emerged glaringly obvious. We now both looked to be around twenty-three to twenty-six, give or take. 

I hummed distractedly, “Mhm.” I had my hand halfway to his hair when he lunged at me for the second time, pinning me down to the quilt with his newly healed body, his already hard cock kissing my clit. “Fox—”

He interrupted me. “Fred.” I met a gleaming cerulean stare. He dropped a trail of kisses along my jawline. “We aren’t children anymore, Elle.”

I huffed. “Fine, Fred. I’m not wet yet. Neither one of us will enjoy it as much if I’m too dry.” I took his hand and slid his fingers, alongside mine, into the awaiting heat at the apex of my thighs. I clenched instantly around the intrusion. 

He moaned as if I’d taken his cock into my mouth instead of penetrating myself with his fingers, his head lolling slightly. Before I could say anything else, he’d shimmied down my body, careful to keep me underneath him, and lowered his face between my legs, his nose and lips pressing directly into my vulva. His tongue darted out, tracing upward along the line of my labia to circle and flick my clit, which he quickly drew into his mouth. The fingers he had buried inside of me disengaged from mine, pushed them out and started wriggling around. They brushed one spot that made me jump. Fred grinned wickedly, teasing that spot again as he continued suckling, making obscene slurping noises. 

With every synchronized manipulation of his tongue, lips, and fingers, I trembled, my hips and thighs jerking. I bucked, shoving myself against his face, which only encouraged him further. It didn’t take long for me to clench around his fingers, but it didn’t end there. He coaxed another two from me, only pulling away when I became sensitive and tried pushing him off of me. He slithered up my body, my cum decorating his chin and a lecherous light in his eye, as he entered me with his full length in one thrust.

It wrenched a pleased gasp from my lips that he caught in his own mouth when he kissed me again, my scent on his breath. I could taste myself when he—tenderly for him—bit at my bottom lip and slipped his tongue into my mouth. With his head now much closer, I finally managed to slide my hand into his golden curls, tugging gently. He practically purred at me. He broke our kiss to lay his forehead against mine, eyes intently studying me when he began moving his hips. “Why me, Elle? Why now? Couldn’t find anyone to fuck in Georgia?” 

I intentionally clenched around him. As he gasped and swore, I smirked, satisfied with myself. “There are plenty of horny rednecks in the South, Fo—Fred. None of them were you. I had the power to bring you back, and I missed you.” 

He trailed his hand down my legs, pushing them back toward my chest as he leaned over me so that they wrapped around his body high, at an angle. He was practically preening, wearing a self-satisfied smirk of his own. “So you moved back here just to take my cock?”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, digging the nails of my free hand carefully into his skin. He groaned, thrusting harder. I snickered, earning a glare. “That’s not the way I would have phrased it. I came back to get _you_ , asshole.” I rolled my hips to match his movements, digging in a bit harder with my nails and tugging on his hair again. His body twitched against me, his breathing sharp. “My best friend, my first love.” 

My forehead was by his clavicle. I turned into his arm and bit his bicep gently. He lost it, his thrusts and breaths erratic. I bit up his arm to his shoulder, then to his neck, dragging my nails down his back and tilting his head back slightly. With his throat exposed I delivered another gentle bite to that spot, then kissed out to the crook of his neck and started leaving a love bite. The animalistic sounds he made in his throat—that and the fact that he said fuck _a lot_ —as he slammed into me told me that he enjoyed the combination of scratching, biting, and hair pulling. 

I thought he might, given that he enjoyed inflicting pain on himself when we were younger. I’d found his tools once, and while that had made my heart clench with worry for him at the time, this safe way of “hurting” him without actually hurting him would hopefully give him the pain he craved without him damaging himself again. I knew the urge he felt to do so came from a river of self-loathing and mental anguish from our years of abuse by our peers (and in his case, his caregiver, too). He needed an outlet for it, and what better way than during sex, than to replace it with something pleasurable, positive, healthy? He could channel it without ever being injured. 

His cock twitched inside of me, his face contorted with his now guttural howling. He leaned into me as far as he could, his harsh pants falling onto my neck. He opened his mouth and bit down, once again surprisingly delicate as he did so. Apparently “hurting” him was fine, but he was careful with me, careful not to bruise me, not to press too hard. It was a sharp contrast to the knowledge that he’d tortured and killed. He’d menaced our tormentors into a whimpering submission, crippled an entire town, but apparently here, with me, he could be gentle, could be restrained, could be _soft_. 

For some reason that knowledge drug a flood of new arousal out of me, made me come, thrashing around underneath him. He made a strangled noise muffled by my skin, his eyes screwed shut. His mouth detached from me as he pressed his face into me, the ridge of his eyebrows flush with my collarbone. I felt him tense, then shake. “Yes, that’s right, take it, take my seed,” he hissed, almost to himself. A small rush of fluid, and then a little of his cum dripped out around his cock when he drew his hips back, smearing into our pubic hair as he continued thrusting into me.

Overly sensitive at this point, I came again, disentangling my fingers from his hair to scratch down his back with both hands. I nosed against his jaw, brushing my over the shell of his ear. “If this is what it feels like to fuck you now, what will it be like after the spell?”

He whimpered, continuing to come. “Elle…” He groaned, boneless on top of me as the last of his orgasm rolled through him. He lay there for a moment, then heaved himself up onto his elbows, still hovering over me. The kiss he gave me was sweet, not like the sex-infused ones leading up to everything we had just done. He stared down at me, and I was probably the only person to ever see him so soft, so vulnerable, so _adoring_ and practically melting. He’d never loved Loretta Matthews, despite how smitten she’d apparently grown with him, enough to marry him and bear his child despite everyone in town despising him. He didn’t reciprocate her feelings, but he settled. He’d said he settled, but I didn’t believe him until he looked at me like he could devour me, like he’d kill every single person in the world if one of them made me cry. As much of an asshole as he still was, he could still love— _did_ still love. 

I cradled his cheek in my palm, watching as his eyes closed and he melted further. I gathered every drop of the energy we created during sex, using it to fuel my spell as I chanted softly. His eyes opened halfway, and he watched me through his eyelashes. My heartbeat slowed a bit, and a surge of energy flowed through me and into him, a small glow surrounding the area over our hearts. He shuddered as his mouth opened in a small ‘o’ that transformed into pleasant surprise.

I could tell why. He felt _heavier_ , looked more solid. I ran my palm across his jawbone. “How does that feel?”

He shifted around, flexing different muscles and extending body parts experimentally. “I’m alive?” He traced my left nipple with some fascination, focused on something intently. “I’m human?” 

I outlined the edge of his lips with my pinky. “Yes and no. Sort of human.”

He stroked my hair off my face. “You told me how you survive.”

I nodded. “And your life force is tied to mine. As long as I’m alive, you’ll be. And since their life force keeps me alive indefinitely as long as I continue to feed…” I shrugged. “We can be together forever. If you want.”

He grinned crookedly at me. “Doll, if we get to fuck like that for eternity, and I get to… _survive_ the way you do, I think it’s a package deal.” Of course he still wanted a way to kill. Figured. 

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t call me ‘Doll’,” I gave him a cheeky grin of my own, “Fox.”

He scowled, but there was no real malice behind it. He leaned down and took my earlobe between his teeth, carefully scraping them back and forth over it. Then his tongue flicked out, soothing away the sting. “Fred,” he reminded me. 

I unbalanced him and flipped us over, straddling his waist. I crossed my arms across my chest, affecting an exaggerated pout. “Why do you hate your nickname?”

“Because I want you to know who I am now, not who I was.” He grabbed my ass, squeezing gently. “In case it’s escaped your notice, I’m a killer now, Elle. A serial-killer. I killed so many of them I lost count. I have _no_ remorse for what I did. And I _liked_ it.”

He was still inside of me, though he hadn’t gone soft yet. I ground my hips downward and clenched my inner muscles, eliciting a startled moan from him. The tip of his cock was probably overstimulated, especially after refraining from sex for so long. “Don’t treat me like a child, you asshat. I’m not naive. I know what you’ve done and why.”

He thrust upward helplessly, unable to refrain from responding to the stimulation. His eyes had grown sharp. Vulgar, ruthless words tumbled out of his mouth. “What happened to you that you’d let some sick fuck bury his cock in you to the hilt and fuck you until he left his seed inside of your cunt?”

Instead of getting angry or embarrassed, I took his head between both hands and gently massaged his scalp. I continued to rock my hips softly, which made him bite his lip as he observed me so he wouldn’t cry out. “Nothing happened to me, nothing bad anyway. No one hurt me in the way you’re implying. The bullies were the worst of it. After my family got me away from those assholes, my life was pretty tame. We just went somewhere else and moved into an area where no one knew that we were witches. You remember how bad it was.”

He was silent, watching me without squirming despite how overstimulated he had to be at this point. “My entire family practices, but most of them don’t do what I do. Some types of magic offer so many opportunities that other branches of magic don’t. Black Widows, that’s what they call witches that seduce and then drain the life force of their victims. I started enjoying it somewhere along the line: the amplified power, the long life, continued youth...the hunt. After I found out what happened to you, I looked for a way to get you back, and I found it in an old grimoire. And here we are.”

“With me alive and you impaled on my cock,” he summarized crassly, to which I twisted my hips in a sideways motion that made his spine arch off of the ground. 

I lightly pinched his nose closed with my left forefingers and thumb, my right hand snaking into his hair again and twisting the strands around my fingertips. I picked up my pace, undulating my lower body as I did. “You’ve got a fowl mouth, Fred, do you know that?” It was like his entire body seized underneath me. Such an intense orgasm overtook him that I thought he might black out from it. He blinked blearily at me as he came down, drowsy and content with his cum dribbling out of me straight onto him.

I got off of him, immediately releasing a large flood of more cum onto his thighs and lower belly. He whined, still following my every movement from where he lay. I laid down next to him, curling into his flank with my head pillowed by his shoulder. He rolled onto his side facing me, his arm circling me. “Wicked woman,” he purred, leaving another one of his sweet kisses on my temple. Apparently I could tone down his assholery by fucking the sense out of him. He sighed, sounding thoroughly knackered for the moment. If he didn’t sleep, he’d at least need a few minutes’ rest before he went anywhere. 

“I’m hungry,” he murmured after a while, eyes hooded and still blissed out from our back-to-back sessions. 

“We can do something about that.” I rubbed noses with him. “I brought you fresh clothing. I’ll take you back to my place and we can order takeout. After a nice, long shower we can spend the day in bed if you like, or maybe go swimming?”

He shamelessly fondled me between my legs. “Spending all day naked with you sounds like a dream-come-true, _Doll_.” 

I pretended to gag. “Ugh, I’m not breaking you of that habit anytime soon, am I?” 

He smirked deviously. “‘Fraid not, Doll.”

I rolled my eyes for the second or third time, sighing dramatically. “I guess I’ll just have to live with it.”

He sneered at me. “For eternity.”

I wrinkled my nose playfully, tilting my head as if considering, then I caught his lips with mine for a long, slow kiss that ended with him panting again. The libido on that man. Thank all fuck that even conditionally immortal, life-force sustained witches and the people they’d shared their life force with needed a refractory period. I slipped out of his embrace and made for my discarded clothing, knowing full well that he was probably enjoying the view when I bent to retrieve each item. Peeking over my shoulder at him, I could tell that he did indeed have his eyes trained right where I knew they’d be. 

“I guess I’ll just have to live with that,” I teased. 


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking Freddy back to her apartment was the easy part. Keeping him from being distracted was not.

II.

Redressing seemed somehow faster than the original undressing. I grabbed my bag and took out the clothes I bought for Freddy. I turned and tossed the bundled lot at his chest. He caught it deftly with one hand, whereupon it fell apart into a heap. I chuckled, which had him shooting another half-hearted scowl at me. I could probably name one time he’d ever been truly angry with me, and unlike the life-long grudges he held against others, he always seemed to forgive me relatively quickly even when I did something particularly annoying. Then again, the worst thing I ever did was tease him or get on his nerves on purpose, usually returning the courtesy to him. His insistence in calling me “Doll” served as a prime example. 

“Why don’t you get dressed while I pack up everything, Freddy?” Without waiting to see if he’d follow my suggestion, I started the process of collecting everything I’d spread out earlier. 

I had about a fourth repacked when a shadow fell over me. The next thing I knew, he’d stooped down beside me. He reached for the nearest items, the picture of us together as kids and the friendship bracelet. He stared down at the two mementos quietly, then looked at me curiously. “You kept these old things after all this time?”

There was some deeper emotion of his hiding underneath those words, one I would have to examine. I didn’t pause in gathering the rest of my belongings, filing away the information for later. “Yes. Even when my mom asked me to throw it all away. I hid it so she wouldn’t burn the lot of it while I was out of the house.” My voice wobbled a bit in remembered sadness and grief, the fight with my mother briefly floating to the surface of my mind.

He gave me a long, considering look, then handed the keepsakes over to me without a word. They were pretty much the last of everything. I tucked them away in a compartment by themselves so they wouldn’t be damaged. I shouldered my bag and bumped my shoulder gently with his. “Let’s go.” 

We stood, Freddy grabbing the quilt and shaking it to get some of the dirt clinging to the bottom to drop off of it. While he did his best to beat it clean, I shook out the trash bag I’d set to the side and dumped the pair of boots, the thick yard gloves, and the bundle of old clothes I wore to free his bones from the earth into it. Freddy watched me clean up as he folded the quilt. I bent to pick up his old clothes, tossing them in with my digging attire. When I reached his killing glove, I paused, then purposely didn’t add it to the trash, instead offering it to him when I straightened and faced him. His eyes flashed, and for a moment they looked blood red. “Could you put it in your bag?”

“Sure.” I nodded, taking it back and gesturing at the shovel I used, the last remnant of my efforts. “Do you think you could...?”

Without being prompted further, he strode over to it and retrieved it from where it sat propped up against one of the walls of cars while I carefully laid his glove on top of everything else. Shifting the plastic bulk I held to rest on one hip, I walked to his side and took his free hand. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

The walk out of the labyrinth of decrepit and useless automobiles passed quietly, with Freddy sliding into a more reserved mode until we reached the exit. When we finally reached my car, I got my keys out of the outer pocket of my bag and opened the doors, tossing my things in the back seat, minus the shovel and the items in the trash bag, which I directed Freddy to store in the trunk where I had a tarp covering the interior. We got into the front, and I started up my Hyundai and put it into drive. Soon we were on the road. “There’s a hat and sunglasses in the glove compartment,” I explained. “I plan on taking the back roads out of town, but just in case…”

He sneered again but fished them out and put them on anyway. We only encountered one car on the road, one that pulled out in front of us from a long driveway that led up to an isolated house. As soon as we hit the town limits, I slumped back in my seat, sighing in relief. I didn’t realize how tense I’d become or how little I’d been breathing until then. I reached over without looking and felt around until I found his hand, then took it into my own. “You can take them off now if you haven’t already. I was just worried you’d be recognized and I didn’t want people driving after us with pitchforks.” I didn’t add ‘and torches’ in case he was still sensitive about them burning him alive. 

The radio came to life, spewing forth Nocturne No. 2 in E flat major by Chopin. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I saw his free hand returning to his lap. His lips twitched as if he didn’t know if he should be amused or not. “Really, Elle, classical music?”

I shrugged. “I find it less distracting while driving than the lyrics to the latest hip-hop or rock song.”

His lip curled, but Freddy said nothing more on the matter. Instead, he switched to a completely different track. “You weren’t a virgin.”

I wasn’t sure where this was going. Did it bother him that I wasn’t? I shrugged casually, trying not to let my hackles rise. “Neither were you,” I returned neutrally. 

He snorted indelicately. “No shit. I have a child, unless you forgot. A daughter, one that hates me. She was actually one of the ones to vanquish me.”

I sighed. “Are we really going to have a conversation about my _purity_?” 

“Fuck no,” he interjected. “I don’t care that you didn’t wait for me. I didn’t expect you to, and we both know that I sure as hell didn’t wait for you. I married Loretta Matthews.” He raised my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. His eyebrows quirked, and he actually sounded playful, giving me what he probably thought was an ‘innocent’ expression. “I just want the details of your first time.” 

I nodded slowly, a wry smile in place. “You’re still an ass, and a pervy one to boot, but I’ll tell you. His name was Simon Lewis. He was this nerdy kid in my bio class. We hung out together a lot in high school since I knew what it felt like to be unpopular. We were just friends—not as close as you and I were, mind you, but we got on just fine.”

“Friends,” Freddy mused, “and yet you still let him inside of you.” It wasn’t a question, but it was—and yet, wasn’t. I knew what was really bothering him: not the fact that I’d had Simon as a lover, but the possibility I could have had feelings for him. He had insecurities about emotional, not physical, intimacy. He was worried that I’d replaced him. 

“Yes. It was a friends with benefits type of situation and we both knew it. When he came out to me, it became abundantly clear that even if I _had_ wanted more—and believe me, I didn’t—there wouldn’t be. It was just sex for the sake of sex, and then it ended. Being together like that really just helped us both figure ourselves out.”

“Apparently so. You taught him that he was gay. What did he teach you, how to spot when your lover is gay?”

We hit a stop light, having finally hit the town I was staying in. I glanced at him. He appeared a bit moody as he gazed back at me. “No,” I disagreed softly, “being with him taught me who I really wanted to be with, and that I’d never feel satisfied until I was.” Of course it was what he wanted to hear, but it also happened to be true. I could never substitute someone else in for him. 

Freddy’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “Bell, I was dead.” I smirked at the slip. He hadn’t seemed to notice yet, and I didn’t want to point it out at the moment.

The light turned green. I returned my eyes to the road as my car lurched back into motion. “I’m a witch, Freddy. I’ve known how to summon spirits since I was ten. I’d manage.”

“So your big revelation was necrophilia?”

I pulled my hand from his and shoved lightly at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Necrophilia is sex with a corpse. Sex with a spirit is different.” 

“Oh?” How he could inject so much intent to be obnoxious and teasing into one word I had no idea. 

I clicked in disapproval. “For one, ‘spirit’ does _not_ mean ‘ghost’, it means an entity that’s usually either unseen or non-corporeal, or one that lives in a different dimension. I mean, you do realize only a small percentage of spirits are manifestations of human souls? There are all sorts of spirits, including a large variety that are just a type of fae, land wight, elemental spirit, or god.”

Just then as I finished my educational rant I expertly maneuvered the car into a parking space and killed the ignition. I twisted in my seat to look at my now not-so-deceased-or-disfigured long-lost friend-turned-lover. And wasn’t that thought a mouthful? “We’re here.”

He spread his hands wide, lips twisted into a wry grin. “I gathered.”

I let out another dramatic sigh. “Oh how I suffer. When did you become such a surly bastard?”

“Surly? Probably around the time you left. I have to make up for all our lost time, don’t I? As for being a bastard, I’ve always been one.” He winked at me. 

I rolled my eyes at him. “You’re making an effort to be obnoxious.”

His smirk widened. “Always.” 

I groaned but let it go. I stretched between the seats to grab my bag from the back so I didn’t have to stop to duck back into the car for it. With no idea where to go since he’d never been to my apartment before, Freddy waited—patiently, for him— for me to get out and lead the way. I decided to leave the rather incriminating trash bag and shovel in my trunk for now, instead more worried about getting Freddy indoors. He kept pace right behind me the entire time, his body so close to me that I could feel his clothing brushing against mine. His body’s heat radiated against my back. Part of me wanted nothing more than to get him naked again and sink down onto his length, but I knew we had other priorities. He was human now—ish, anyway—and needed food and water. He should get a chance to rest, to shower, and to adjust to being alive. 

I guided him away from the main office toward my building, building A, taking him up the stairs to the third floor. I stopped at the last apartment on the left, number twelve. I was thankful to note that the corridor was deserted, so that we could slip inside unnoticed by any nosy neighbors. With Freddy’s hand in mine, I stepped over the threshold, which doubled as the boundary of my wards, feeling the ones on the entrance suck off any foreign energy and recycle it to absorb into its own power structure. I yanked gently on our joined hands to usher him forward. Freddy followed me inside, his face momentarily twitching in discomfort. 

“I’ll key you into my wards while you’re in the shower. That sensation of needing to be somewhere else should fade soon.”

Freddy eyed me as he closed the door behind us, sliding all the locks into place. “I was hoping that you’d be joining me.” That lascivious twinkle danced in his eyes. 

I snorted in amusement. I could feel the fond look forming on my face when I looked into his. “If you want that you’ll have to wait. It shouldn’t take more than five minutes, but I didn’t think you’d want to stand here while I made the changes.”

Freddy sauntered up to me, sliding his arms around me and drawing me into a kiss somewhere between a sweet one and a sex-fueled one, a kiss with just a hint of biting hunger. I wanted to melt into him, but I needed to concentrate, so I tuned out the physical sensations. I brought up the image of the network of warding on my home in my mind’s eye, tapped into that network, then plucked until a small wisp of Freddy’s energy split from the rest. I added his energy signature to the ones the wards should recognize and allow to enter. When the wards blazed bright with a surge of power and recognition, I let my hold on them fade. As I became aware of my physical body again, I felt Freddy’s lips still dancing with mine. His tongue traced the crease of my lips, his breath ragged. He’d wrapped one of my legs around his waist, squeezing my ass as he cupped it in one hand. His other hand carefully held my head, his pelvis flush with mine and a growing erection evident. He rutted against me, clearly recuperated from earlier. Perhaps being inhuman for so long had increased his stamina and energy reserves to inhuman levels, or perhaps it was the renewed sense of being alive flowing through his veins.

I carded my fingers through his hair until I reached his nape, then I tugged, leaning my own head back at the same time to break contact. I rested my forehead against his, breathless. “We shouldn’t,” I murmured against his open mouth. “You need to eat and rest and we need to bathe…”

“Mm, after,” he hummed. “I want my cock to be buried in your cunt as far as it’ll go while I fuck you from behind.”

“Freddy…” I tried to put up a token protest, but the image he painted was so inviting that my heart wasn’t in it. I could feel myself getting wet already at the thought of having him inside of me again, blazing that fiery trail to the spot that made me see stars. My thighs squeezed together involuntarily, which would have worked better if Freddy hadn’t started dry humping me through our clothes. I willed myself to disentangle from his embrace, then I walked over to the nearby kitchen table, where I leaned my body across it, bunching up my skirt around my middle, legs spread wide. 

The air alighting on my vulva made me shudder. Behind me, I heard Freddy make a strangled sound that ended with a pervy but delighted chuckle. “Now who’s eager, Elle-Bell?”

He wasted no time covering the short distance between us, the sound of his fly coming down reaching my ears. Despite that, it was his tongue that delved into me a few seconds later. His hand snaked around to the front of my legs, creeping up to stroke at my clit. He braced my legs against his shoulders, then dove into teasing me. He had to be lapping at his own cum, but he kept going, undulating, withdrawing, reentering. I was still sensitive from earlier. It didn’t take him long to work me to a peak. My legs trembled and I mentally thanked him for his foresight to hold my body up with his own. 

No sooner had he coaxed a small wash of fluid onto his waiting tongue than his mouth left me. Three of his fingers dipped into me, spreading around my arousal, then they too retreated. He balanced me more firmly against the table, and before I knew it he’d entered me. Freddy almost immediately hit that sensitive spot inside of me that would have sent me to my knees without his body and the table to hold me up, just from a different angle from before. He slipped his hands underneath my shirt to stroke my nipples in a circular motion with his thumbs. I caressed my aching clit through the clitoral hood instead of adding more direct stimulation, replacing his touch with my own. This time was a bit rougher, Freddy thrusting as hard and fast as he could, my breasts bouncing against his palms. I tensed suddenly, my muscles clenching from the waist down, then I spasmed, a gasped moan drug from my lips. Freddy whispered dirty encouragements into my ear as he continued with the same force and speed.

It got to where I was experiencing nearly constant orgasm—either one large one or a series of small ones back to back that overlapped. The continuous and simultaneous stimulation to my breasts, clit, and g-spot made it impossible not to cum, and the more I did the harder and faster Freddy’s hips canted forward, until I was near tears, a series of long, low sounds wrenched from my throat. Part of me didn’t know how I wasn’t strangling his cock, cutting off all circulation to it with how tightly my walls gripped at him. Shockwave after shockwave rocked through me as I writhed back and forth. It only made Freddy’s movements more concentrated, his hips snapping rhythmically into place. I kept my own slow and steady to spare my clit, but still couldn’t control how my hips jerked forward. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I also wanted to tell him to go _harder, faster._

Black edged my vision and I felt a bit lightheaded, but we weren’t finished. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay standing for much longer, judging by how wobbly my legs had gotten. I also knew how much Freddy loved dirty talk, so I decided to return some of my own to speed things up a bit. “Come for me, Freddy,” I purred, “Come inside of me. Fill my pussy with your seed until it’s running down my thighs, then clean it up for me.” 

He sucked in a sharp intake of breath, cried out, and pinched my nipples between his thumb and index finger, his thrusts stuttering then somehow growing even more intense than moments previously. He took my earlobe into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth. It was then that I came so hard I screamed, a long, feral, guttural cry crawling up my throat and tumbling out of my mouth as tears fell from my eyes. With my entire body twitching and seizing, Freddy came with a wordless shout, shuddering against my back as he did. I slumped against the table lifelessly, completely limp, with Freddy slumping onto my back. We both panted as if we’d just run a marathon, taking in great gulps of breath. In the sudden silence, I could only hear that rush of air and my galloping heartbeat in my ear, pulsing like a speedy version of the underlying dull thump of club music. 

I lay there for a few minutes, gathering the strength and energy to move. Freddy lay across my back trying to master himself as well. His cock softened slowly inside of me, until finally the last traces of Freddy’s arousal vanished and it slipped from me. I don’t know why, but I whispered. It felt like a quiet moment. “After this we _have_ to eat and shower, then get in bed—for _sleeping._ You can go ahead and start and I’ll make the call for pizza before I join you.”

Freddy hummed in agreement as he nuzzled against me, planting a kiss on my spine before he stood up slowly, using the table to steady himself. 

I looked at him over my shoulder. “What, nothing clever to say?”

His eyebrow quirked upward, his lips twitching into a content, self-satisfied smile. He was pleased with himself. “I’m surprised you can still talk after that, let alone make it to the shower.”

I scowled at him. “And whose fault would that be, Freddy? Just because there’s a table doesn’t mean we have to fuck on it.”

He smirked, clearly unrepentant. He didn’t bother to avoid being cheeky in his rebuttal. “That’s exactly what it means, Doll. What would be the fun in not doing that?”

“Humph.” When I straightened to my full height, my skirt fell back into place with a silent swish. I stalked toward the hallway, clinging to whatever semblance of dignity I had left. I heard Freddy’s footsteps as he glided over the carpeted floor, following directly behind me. I stopped by the laundry room, quickly tossing my current outfit in with the rest of my clothes. “Strip,” I ordered over my shoulder. I turned to Freddy, hand extended expectantly. 

Freddy smirked at me with no small amount of amusement. “My, my, not even dinner first, Elle. What would your mother say?” He pried the new clothes off of his body to hand to me. 

Once I deposited his outfit on top, I turned the machine on and set the cycle. “There. You can start showering now. Second door on the right.”

I expected him to protest again, but apparently with his sexual appetite sated at the moment, he was happy to comply. He leaned down and planted affectionate kisses on my forehead, nose, and lips, then left to do what I asked. I huffed quietly to myself, then went out to where my purse lay to grab my phone. I locked and bolted the door as I dialed for pizza, figuring that was safe since I remembered the toppings he liked when we were kids. It took less than five minutes to place our order. I left my phone on the charger in my room, then went to the bathroom. 

Freddy had closed the door. When I opened it, it was to a room that had already grown steamy, the warmth of the shower trapped within and the mirror fogged up completely. I could see Freddy through the transparent curtain, standing under the steady stream with his eyes closed, hands smoothing back his golden hair and his head tilted backwards. As I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, the sound drew his gaze to me, his eyes opening. Droplets of water hung off of his long lashes, his chest hair, and the trail of golden curls led from his navel down to his at-the-moment flaccid cock.

Somehow this made him look soft too, more human. He pulled the curtain to the side and beckoned for me to join him. I padded across the cold tiles to his side, stepping into the tub, the cool porcelain a contrast to the heat surrounding us. I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and rubbing my face into his bare chest. His skin was hot to the touch against mine, heated by the cascading water. He embraced me in turn, his right hand going to my hair, gently carding through it. His lips fluttered against my temple. I sighed, feeling more content than I had in a long time. “I love you, Fox,” I whispered. 

His movements paused momentarily, then he nosed my steadily dampening hair and pressed his cheek to the crown of my head. If I hadn’t seen the adoring look from earlier, if I hadn’t witnessed how he melted for me, I might have wondered if he meant the reply he gave me, but I had, and there was no question of falsehood. “I love you too, Bell.” 

As he cradled me tenderly in his arms under the warm spray of the shower, I knew without a doubt that he meant it.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I'm so, so sorry for anyone reading my Rick and Morty fic! I do intend to finish it, I've just been swamped at my job and I'm stuck on how to execute a certain plot point.
> 
> The first story in this series will have a fourth chapter. This story will likely have four total parts as well. Next after this is Jason Voorhees.


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